Puzzling, Feet Cold in the Snow
by monkeeem
Summary: Set after the Christmas episode in season 2, Rachel gets sick after Finn leaves her in the Christmas tree lot.
1. Slim Jims and Voicemails

**So, this is from waaaaaaaaaaay back in season 2 set right after the Christmas episode. I have this rule that I will not publish anything until it is finished (since I fall into the trap of never updating and that just disappoints people) and since I could never really figure out the ending, it sat in my folder for 2 years… But here it is now! All finished! Yay!**

Tears blurred her vision as another hacking cough wracked her small frame. She whimpered plaintively and immediately regretted the action when a fiery pain licked up her throat, burning her insides the way her fever scorched her skin.

Blinking away the film covering her eyes Rachel groped blindly for her pink Blackberry, watching the screen come to life so she could once again stare at her contact list.

When Finn had left her standing in the Christmas tree lot that fateful December night, she hadn't put much thought into wallowing in the snow and crying her heart out before finally calling her dad's to pick her up an hour later. In fact, the juxtaposition of the cheerful atmosphere only a few feet away and the icy numbness of snow melting into her stockings had seemed fitting to her dramatic sensibilities. It wasn't until she woke up late the next morning, her cheeks severely chapped from the layer of icy tears that she had repeatedly wiped away and her eyes still red and puffy, that she thought perhaps sitting in the snow hadn't really been her brightest idea.

But being Rachel Berry she had shouldered on, plastering on a cheerful smile along with nearly half a bottle of moisturizing cream.

She drank extra herbal tea with honey before school, and stowed an extra large bag of cough drops in her book bag. The honey smoothed her throat so that her forced laughter didn't tear quite so horribly at her throat, and the disgusting cherry flavored drops made speaking when necessary possible, but they didn't entirely relieve the pain.

At Mr. Shue's Christmas get together, she made sure to say as little as possible to prevent the others from hearing the slight crackling behind her words. She feared their pitying eyes almost as much than their accusing stares. Almost. Her voice only failed her once, just as everyone was expressing their last minute Merry Christmases and hugging goodbye. She was wishing Tina and Mike a happy holiday when her voice faded into nothing, her lips moving along without it. No one noticed, and Rachel slipped out the door a few minutes before everyone else, driving home quickly to pour herself yet another large mug of tea to wash down a double dose of herbal supplements. She gracefully excused herself from a movie with her dad's and went to bed early.

Christmas morning Rachel woke shivering despite the extra blanket she had fetched during the night, and her throat felt scratchy and raw. She carried around an extra bottle of water to sip at and quickly shoved food in her mouth anytime her dads tried to engage her in conversation. They had no need to worry, especially since they were leaving tomorrow morning for their friend's annual New Year's party in Philly. It was just a little cold; and she would hate for something so trivial to take her overly concerned fathers away from an event they looked forward to all year. She picked at her Chinese food and fell asleep halfway through "Fiddler on the Roof". When she woke up on the couch the next morning she had a crick in her neck and a horrible headache to match the throbbing in her throat. She assured her dads in was just the rough night on the couch while ushering them out the door.

The sooner they left, the sooner she could crawl into her real bed with a bottle of painkillers and Nyquil.

Now, two days later, Rachel hadn't left her bed for anything other than a dire need to use the bathroom, and when she did it felt like her stomach couldn't decide if it was trying to become intimate friends with her toes, or her mouth.

All she wanted was someone to tell her she was going to be ok. And maybe make her a pot of vegan vegetable soup.

Prying her eyes open again (she didn't remember closing them) she squinted at her phone one more time before hitting the send button, consequences be damned, and shakily brought the phone to her ear.

The phone only rang twice before it went through to voicemail. Rachel groaned into her pillow as she listened to the monotonous electronic voice explaining how to leave a message (Seriously? Was there really anyone who didn't know how voicemail worked these days?). When she finally heard the beep and opened her mouth to speak, instead of words she released a rather embarrassing rattling squawk, which brought on yet _another_ coughing fit. By the time she was finally able to clear her throat, she was crying again, and she hated how pathetic she _felt_, let alone how she sounded.

"Finn…" Her raspy voice was choked with tears. "I know you," another sharp cough left her struggling to pull air into her lungs, "hate me but-" she coughed so hard she gagged, her whimpers turning into sobs as she tried to talk around the wet rag that was lodged in her throat. "_Please_ Finn. I ne-ne-need you…" She broke down entirely, continuing to clutch her phone close to her ear even after she heard the faint beep of the voicemail cutting her off. Sobbing into her pillow, Rachel peeked mournfully at her empty bottle of Nyquil before curling into a ball and attempted to become one with her mattress.

Finn Hudson was not happy. But that was about as far as he was willing to delve into his feelings whenever people asked him how he was doing.

He had felt his mother's worried gaze on his back for two long weeks, but neither had broached the topic of his bad mood or the distinct lack of Rachel Berry around the house. But all that changed as soon as Kurt had come home for winter break. Suddenly his mother's gaze was no longer curious, but pitying, and Finn high-tailed it out of the room as fast as possible if they were left alone together. He could tell she wanted to talk, wanted to make sure he was alright and offer a shoulder to cry on. But he couldn't think about it right now, couldn't think about _her_. It was still too fresh, too painful.

So he hid in his room. Playing video games and listening to loud, depressing music, and he always kept his shoes on and his coat at the ready, in case his mom came knocking. In just 2 days, he had spent $28 dollars of his Christmas money refilling his gas tank and buying slim-jims to eat while sitting in the parking lot at the 7-Eleven.

And now he was sitting, having just narrowly escaped another encounter with his mother, clenching and unclenching his fists on the steering wheel at the side of highway 75. Guilt churned heavily in his stomach as he tortured himself by replaying the image of his mother's hurt expressions as he rushed past her, mumbling something about meeting a friend, which they both knew was a lie.

He groaned out loud and let his head fall against the steering wheel, jerking slightly as the horn exclaimed in protest. This had always been Finn's favorite time of year, and now it physically pained him to look up at the gentle flurry of snowflakes dotting his windshield. If he stared at them for too long, he would recall the way they had caught in _her_ dark eyelashes, melting to mix with _her_ tears before he turned and walked away…

Shaking his head to clear away the images, he let out a heavy sigh and restarted his truck, cranking the heater to chase away the cold that had seeped in while he hadn't been paying attention. He was trying to decide if he was willing to waste even more money on the gas it would take to drive around town or if he should just face the music and head home, when his ringing cell phone pulled him from his thoughts.

He quickly shuffled through his pockets, assuming it would be his mother, or Kurt calling on her behalf. But when he flipped open his phone, thumb already halfway to accepting the call, his eyes locked on _her_ name flashing across the screen, and his stomach clinched painfully. Before he even had time to process the decision, he had ignored her call and flung his phone across the cable of his truck. It bounced across the seat before landing on the floorboard with a dull thud. Finn stared after it while trying to calm his breathing.

He wasn't ready to talk to her. Hell, he couldn't even _think_ her name. No way was he ready to hear her voice, laden with all that sadness he knew was reflected in his own.

If he was being completely honest, (which he wasn't, because he just couldn't deal with that right now) it wasn't his pain that was keeping him away from his mother, and from Kurt. It was hers. Because he knew if he thought about it, really thought about it, he would realize how much she must be hurting too. And he had never been able to see her in pain. Not the superficial pain that came along with one of her diva fits when she didn't get her way, but the deep, raw pain that would flash across her face whenever she would realize that he had been staring at a cheerleader instead of listening to what she had to say, or whenever the subject of her mother came up. It tore at his insides and made him feel sick to his stomach. Usually when it happened, he would use the 'distract and smother' method of dealing with Rachel Berry; compliment her a few times, buy her ice cream or one of those fluffy stuffed animals that he always felt were staring at them when they made out in her bedroom, and showered her with hugs and light pecks until she was either completely besotted or extremely irritated. Either way, she forgot all about being sad.

But that wouldn't work this time. Nothing would work this time. Because it was over, he had ended it. And if he thought about it, he would realize that maybe, even with everything that happened, with what she did, maybe breaking up was not what he wanted…

His phone buzzed and lit up a second time, casting an eerie glow in the darkness of his truck. With a sigh he yanked off his seatbelt and shifted to feel for his phone. He pondered for a moment before deciding that even if listening to her voice did feel like swallowing acid, she had been remarkably silent over the last few days, particularly for Rachel Berry... Not that he had been paying any special attention to her or anything. And besides, at least it wouldn't be as hard as really talking to her. And it might be important.

He snorted to himself as he hit the call button and brought the phone to his ear. Yeah, he was totally just making excuses. Like he was even capable of ever truly ignoring Rachel Berry.

"First unheard message…" At first, Finn thought that maybe Rachel had prank called him in a fit of insanity. Was that a dying bird? Or maybe in was a cat… And then all that coughing… Even through his confusion, the part of him that would always love Rachel (which he would grudgingly admit to himself was _all_ of him) knew that something was very, very wrong.

"Finn…" Dear god! Was that her voice? _Rachel's _voice? The future star of Broadway? "I know you," there was more coughing and Finn felt all of the color drain out of his face while he moved to put his seatbelt on, shifting his truck into drive at the same time. "-hate me but," the awkward gagging sound coming from Rachel, _his_ Rachel, made him physically ill, like he could take some of her pain into himself. God she sounded _terrible_. "Please Finn. I ne-ne-need you…" He was clutching his phone so tightly to his ear that it was painful. He cursed when the mechanical voice cut off her plaintive sobbing, and pulled the phone away only long enough to hit repeat.

"_Please_ Finn. I ne-ne-need you…"

"I'm coming baby. I'm coming." He whispered back. Ignoring the icy streets he stepped on the gas just a little harder, praying to her god, any god, who would listen, to get him to her safely.


	2. Conversations in the Light

After knocking until his knuckles hurt, Finn made the decision that even if her dads did throttle him for entering their house without permission, nothing was going to keep him from his obviously sick girlfriend.

"Ex-girlfriend," he mumbled under his breath while he retrieved the key that was taped to the underside of one of the many potted plants that lined the Berry's front porch. He pushed the front door open cautiously, sticking his head in and peering into the darkness for any signs of life.

"Rachel?" Finn called out tentatively. He didn't want to startle her, but he didn't want to run screaming through her house either, especially if her dads were here.

When he got no response, Finn moved hesitantly into the house, closing the door quietly behind him. For several long seconds he stood contemplating, his eyes moving through the blackness that resembled the shapes of the Berry's furniture. The reality of where he was and what he was doing finally hit him, and for the first time since he heard her voicemail, the cold fingers of betrayal wrapped around his heart. As his gut churned nervously he wondered if maybe he could sneak out now with no one being the wiser that he'd ever stepped foot in the Berry's home tonight. But even as his mind created excuses for him to give Rachel if she ever asked about her message (his phone had died, he left it in his room, he dropped it in the snow, curious aliens from outer space had stolen it for research into the human race) the memory of her violent cough echoed in his ears and without realizing he had moved, he found himself taking the stairs two at a time, rushing toward her bedroom.

Her door was open and her room was pitch black, even after the darkness encasing the rest of her house, his eyes strained to make out the immobile lump atop her bed. Not wanting to disturb her, Finn carefully picked his way through the darkness to her bed. He gingerly sat on the edge, but once there, was at a loss as to what to do.

He could imagine doing this in the past, before his whole world had been ripped away from him. He would have pulled the covers back, stroked her hair back from her forehead, and used a tender kiss to determine just how bad her fever was. He would bring her a cold wash cloth and lay by her side, letting her use him like an oversized pillow/teddy bear combo. He might even sing her a lullaby if she was _really_ sick, and she did that adorable pout that would be even more persuasive when her lips and nose were swollen and flushed from fever.

But that was the past; when she was his faithful girlfriend who hadn't cheated on him with his best friend and smashed his heart into thousands of little tiny pieces.

Finn heaved a great sigh, steeling himself for the task ahead, before moving a shaky hand to peel back the covers hiding Rachel from view. Even though it was dark he could tell that her hair was one big snarl of knots. Now that she was uncovered, he could hear the slight wheeze with every breath she pulled in past her puffy lips. With steady fingers he reached out to brush the bangs from her forehead, replacing them with his open palm.

He tore his hand away in stock. She was burning up! Finn quickly shifted back onto his feet, heading for the bathroom attached to Rachel's room. Here he felt it was safe to flick on the light, and while he ran a washcloth under cold water, he pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Hello?"

"Hey Mom, it's me."

"Oh Finn! Good! I was hop-"

"I'm sorry." Carol paused for a long moment before replying.

"That's okay Finn. I know you've been really torn up about what happened. I just wish you'd talk to me about it." He winced at his mother's wounded tone.

"I know Mom and I'm sorry. But it's just… I still… It just hurts too much right now Mom."

He could almost feel his mom nodding on the other end.

"Okay… I know it's hard Honey, take all the time you need. I'm here when you're ready." Finn smiled, leaning back against the counter, cool compress in hand.

"Thanks Mom." There was more silence as mother and son enjoyed a moment of peace. Then his mom sucked in a deep breath.

"When will you be home?" Finn sighed.

"That's actually why I called." Squeezing his eyes shut, Finn pulled a deep breath in through his teeth. "Mom... I'm at Rachel's."

There was a beat of silence and Finn tensed.

"Oh. Well-"

"I was wondering if I could stay the night." More silence. Finn rushed to continue before his mom could turn him down flat. "I wasn't going to come over here, I was just going to drive around then come home, but she called, and I ignored it of course, but she left a voicemail and she's sick Mom. I mean _really_ sick. Rachel Berry doesn't get sick! And I don't think her dads are here, I remember her saying something about them being out of town and-"

"Finn!" He fell silent. "Do you _want_ to be there?"

His face scrunched in confusion while he thought. That had NOT been the question he was expecting.

Did he want to be there? His gut reaction was no. She had hurt him and was being selfish by asking him to come. This was all her fault in the first place! Why should he care?

But then he thought about her being here all alone, if he left her to deal with her sickness all by herself. Sure she would be miserable, but she could do it, she would survive. She was Rachel Berry, she could so anything on her own. But…

"Yeah Mom, I want to be here." Because hadn't that been the problem all along? She shouldn't have to do everything all on her own. And yeah, he was mad, and she had hurt him. His chest squeezed painfully. She had hurt him, and he wasn't sure if he could ever trust her again…

But that didn't make him love her any less.

"And she's _really_ sick? There won't be any funny business?" Finn coughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"No Mom, no funny business. I promise." He looked at the wash cloth in his hand. "I'm not even sure there can be any conversation. She's so sick Mom." His eyes landed on the bathroom door separating him from his… The woman he loved. "What do I do?" He asked in a low, childlike voice.

There was another pause.

"Does she have a fever?"

"Yeah, I felt her forehead when I came in and I'm surprised she hasn't burst into flames yet. I'm in the bathroom getting her a cold washcloth right now." He relaxed back against the sink again. He liked this kind of conversation, an exchange of information, nothing emotional that would tear at his heart.

"That's good. Try to keep her fever down as much as possible. What's the problem? Is it her stomach or her throat?"

"I'm not really sure, she's asleep. But in her voicemail she was coughing so much it sounded like she was making herself sick, like she could barely breathe."

"Well if its congestion, the best thing to do is make her plenty of hot drinks, they help break up clogged sinuses." Finn listened attentively as his mom ran through how to nurse his ex-girlfriend back to health. Why was his life always so complicated?

"Thanks Mom." Having a nurse for a mom was totally awesome.

"No problem Honey. Call me when she wakes up if you need anything. And Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"She's going to be alright." Finn was quiet for a moment.

"I love you Mom."

"I love you too. Call me if you need me."

Finn fiddled with his phone, staring down the door that separated him from the girl who broke his heart.


	3. Hearing the Hard Questions

After almost tripping over a stray shoe, Finn decided to take a chance on the lights. Flicking on Rachel's bedside lamp, he stared at the lump in the bed for a moment, preparing himself one last time for what he was about to do.

He carefully pushed back her comforter to expose her head, gently placing the wash cloth across her burning skin. She let out a loud, wheezing moan that made Finn frown with concern before he headed back downstairs.

Snooping his way through the Berry's kitchen, he managed to find Rachel's stash of tea and a can of tomato soup, which he hoped was vegan. He had never really been able to figure out what Rachel could and couldn't eat, and since she had always been there to tell him, he hadn't been too worried about it until now. But he was pretty sure that he couldn't make her chicken noodle soup, since once over the summer he had brought her chicken nuggets because he knew she didn't eat cheeseburgers, and she had informed him that no meat meant no hamburger OR chicken. She had giggled when he looked so visibly upset. Who doesn't eat chicken? His heart panged at the memory, her bright smile burning a hole in his already shredded heart.

With some trepidation over his lack of cooking skills, Finn set out making Rachel's soup, stirring constantly so (he hoped) there was absolutely no chance of it burning. After nearly pouring boiling water on himself while making tea, and adding a bright splash of tomato red to his white tennis shoes, Finn deemed his creations taste test ready, and headed back to Rachel's room with her tea.

So what if he only made it halfway up the stairs before he had to come back down to turn off the stove? Big deal.

Reentering Rachel's room he sat her tea down on the bedside table and tentatively placed his fingers over the wash cloth on her forehead. It was completely dry and nearly as warm as she was. He carefully peeled it away from her skin and went to rewet it in the bathroom, trying to control the fear that was slowly beginning to churn in his gut. He had been downstairs for at least half an hour and she hadn't moved at all. Shouldn't she have woken up by now? He was sure he had been making a ton of noise, especially when he dropped the hot water on himself… And he really wanted to take her temperature. Once when he was little, his mom had taken his temperature and he hadn't been able to understand why she rushed him off to the hospital so quickly. He just had the flu. It wasn't until he was older that he learned that a fever of 105.3° wasn't cool, it was scary. Wringing out the once again cold wash cloth, Finn returned to Rachel's side.

Hearing her wheeze as she struggled to breathe, Finn decided that even if it woke her up, it would be better for her cough if he propped her head up (something his mother had suggested). Setting the wash cloth aside, he grabbed a pillow that had fallen to the floor and very gently cradled her head, lifting it out of the way while he tried to shove the pillow under her. She groaned loudly, resulting in a hacking cough that made Finn's blood run cold, then freeze in his veins when she tried to speak.

"Finn?" God her poor voice. _The_ Rachel Berry should never sound like that. Finn struggled against the urge to pull her into his arms and never let go, instead lowering her head onto her newly elevated pillows.

"Hey babe." Crap. He shouldn't have called her babe. "How are you feeling?" Finn mentally slapped himself. Stupid question. He was really bad at this.

He briefly wondered if by 'this' he meant playing nurse or being Rachel's ex-boyfriend, but the question left a bitter taste in his mouth, so he pushed it aside.

"Nnnnmphugh." Rachel made an unintelligible noise as she began shifting around, trying to sit up. Unfortunately the snarl formerly known as her blankets had her pinned to the bed. With a huff of exasperation that lead to another coughing fit, Rachel threw herself back into her pillows and closed her eyes, silently praying that when she opened them again this nightmare would be over.

Except that then Finn wouldn't be here with her. Her eyes snapped back open and frantically searched for his face.

And there he was, handsome as ever, his eyes boring into hers with concern. Except that couldn't be right, could it? Because he didn't care about her anymore. She had cheated and that was unforgivable. He had said that right? When they were outside in the snow? Or had they been in the hallway at school, or was it at Mr. Schuh's Christmas party? She groaned. Her head throbbed painfully.

His cool fingers grazed across her molten forehead, and her eyes moved back to his.

"-you eally 'ere?" Rachel's raspy voice cut in and out and she frowned, licking her lips in an attempt to rid her mouth of the sandpaper like quality it had adopted. No such luck.

Finn noticed her struggle and reached over to grab her tea. Her pale face seemed to brighten at the sight of it, and he helped her shaky fingers bring it to her lips so she could drink deeply.

"-ank you. S'good." She gave him a small, weak smile as he returned the cup to her bedside table. Suddenly feeling awkward with nothing to occupy his hands, Finn let his eyes fall to her pink comforter, fiddling with the soft fabric, the same comforter they had made out on so many times this summer…

His heart lurched painfully in his chest.

"-inn?" Her quivering hand came to rest on his, stilling the nervous movement. He dragged his gaze up to meet her confused expression. "-hy are you 'ere?" He sucked in a deep breath as he watched her watching him. That was a great question… He just wished the answer didn't hurt quiet so much.

"I got your voicemail…" She frowned, looking more befuddled than before. "You sounded really sick, and I remembered you saying that your dads were going to visit your aunt this week, so…" _And I still love you_, he added mentally, but he quickly shook the thought away. "I was worried."

"I 'alled you?" Her forehead wrinkled in concentration for a moment. "I 'ought 'at was a dream." She smiled sheepishly, a look of guilt passing across her features. "I'm sorry Finn. I shouldn't 'ave done that."

They stared at each other. The silence stretched between them as they regarded one another, trying to see into the soul of the one person they used to think they knew better than themselves.

"That's okay Rach. You shouldn't be alone." He brought his hand up to caress her cheek, trying to control the fluttering of his heart as her eyes fell closed and she leaned into his touch, a small smile forming on her lips. Finn felt warmth spread through his fingers where they touched her skin, and the tendrils leading to his heart had nothing to do with her fever. Trying to steer his runaway emotions back in the right direction, he brushed his thumb across her cheek before pulling away. "Do you think you could stomach some soup? I made tomato. I think you can eat that, right?" Her eyes fluttered open and his senses were once again assaulted by her deep stare. "I uh… I don't think I burned it." He watched her fight against her heavy eyelids.

"Can you 'ust stay for now? Mmsleepy." She slurred. Finn tried not to feel too much concern that she was still so tired after having slept so much.

"Yeah that's fine Rach. Just let me go put your soup away." He rose to head downstairs when a tiny hand on his stopped him, wide doe eyes staring at him intently.

"But you'll come 'ack right?" He smiled reassuringly at her slightly panicked expression.

"Right back. You won't even notice I'm gone." He leaned forward to place a delicate kiss on her forehead, mentally smacking himself as he pulled away. That was definitely _not_ something an ex-boyfriend should do. He turned and headed for the door.

It was so faint, he almost didn't hear her quiet whisper.

"I always notice when you're gone."

**More shortly! Have a little proofreading to do!**


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